Epilogue

York

It’s Christmas again, and everything feels different this year—better, warmer, like the world has fallen into place. Noelle and I are back visiting her parents, and after all the festivities, we decided to sneak away to the practice rink for old time’s sake. The place is completely empty, just how we remember it, and for a moment, it feels like stepping into a memory.

We stand by the edge of the rink, staring at the Zamboni parked in the corner. Noelle crosses her arms, eyeing it with the kind of curiosity that always makes me grin.

“Think they’d let me drive it?” she asks, her voice full of naughtiness.

I chuckle, shaking my head. “I think we both know that’s a disaster waiting to happen.”

She shoots me a playful glare. “Oh, come on! I’d be amazing at it. Smooth turns, perfect lines. I’d be a Zamboni artist.”

I raise an eyebrow, leaning in a little closer. “The last time you tried to drive anything was that go-kart in the summer, and you nearly took out three kids and a hot dog stand.”

She rolls her eyes, though I can see the smile tugging at her lips. “I was distracted, okay? You were doing that thing with your hair.”

I laugh, pulling her into my arms, wrapping them around her as we both stare out at the rink. “Sure, blame me. But we’re not adding Zamboni operator to your resume. Besides, I don’t think your dad would appreciate me letting you crash into the boards.”

Noelle leans her head against my chest, her laugh soft and warm. “I’d crash gracefully.”

“Gracefully into a wall,” I tease, kissing the top of her head.

We stand there for a moment, just enjoying the quiet, the soft echo of our voices in the empty rink. It’s hard to believe a year ago, everything felt so uncertain. But now, with her in my arms, it’s like I’ve finally found exactly where I’m supposed to be.

“You know,” she says, her voice softer now, “I used to sit in these stands and watch you practice all the time.”

I smirk, glancing down at her. “Oh, I remember. You were always pretending not to stare.”

She laughs, nudging me playfully. “I wasn’t pretending. I was studying. I had to make sure my dad’s best player was doing everything right.”

“Mmm, sure. Is that why you had a crush on me?”

Noelle looks up at me, her blue eyes sparkling with a mix of teasing and sincerity. “Maybe. You weren’t too bad to look at, you know.”

I grin, tightening my hold on her. “You weren’t too bad yourself.”

We fall into a comfortable silence, just standing there in the rink where so much of our story began. I can’t help but feel like this is exactly where we were meant to end up—back where it all started, but this time, together.

“Remember the last time we were here?” I ask her.

Her smile widens. “Yeah. I wasn’t too bad of a Zamboni driver then, was I?”

I laugh, squeezing her closer. “Yeah, if I remember correctly I was the one driving that night.”

She smiles, and it nearly takes my breath away. “You were definitely driving.”

“Still have those panties?” I ask her, remembering the pair she had on that night.

She pulls away from me, laughing. “I actually have another pair you might like better.”

“I’ll have to be the judge of that.”

She rushes over to the Zamboni, climbing into the seat. “Ready?”

I nod, licking my lips. “Yeah.”

She lowers her pants, and on the front of the panties is a candy cane with the saying, it’s not going to lick itself.

“Those are my new favorite pair,” I say, moving closer. I sit in the seat of the Zamboni, memories flooding back. I tap my lap, wanting her sweet little ass there. “Come sit on Santa’s lap,” I tell her with a laugh.

She rolls her eyes playfully at me, and sits down. “I already have everything I could ever possibly want.”

“Everything?” I raise a brow.

“Yes,” she says, wrapping her arms around my neck. “Everything.” She plants her lips across mine, and I kiss her back.

The kiss grows urgent, and I can’t wait to be inside this woman. I growl as she repositions herself to where she’s straddling my lap. I’ve got many plans for tonight, but right now the need I’ve got for her is so much more. It burns through me, and I undo my pants, pulling my cock free.

“Oh, that’s what I want, Santa,” she says with a giggle.

“Please don’t call me that.” I laugh. “Talk about losing the mood.”

She’s cute as she gazes at me from under her thick lashes. “Aww, what’s wrong? You don’t like being called Santa?”

“Uh, obviously not.” I laugh again. “Why do you have some kinky Santa fetish I don’t know about?”

She shrugs. “Maybe.”

No way. I wrap my arms around her, tugging her closer to me. “No, you don’t. Because I won’t have you be one of Santa’s ho ho hoes.”

Now it’s her turn to laugh. “You don’t want me sleighing your name all night long?”

I smirk. “And I can deck your halls.”

“And I’ll sing fa-la-la-la-la all night long?”

“Oh, what a holy night it’ll be,” I laugh more.

“It definitely won’t be silent,” she says, her eyes connecting with mine.

One thing I’ve learned about Noelle in the year I’ve been dating her—she loves to be loud. Very loud. Last year we were never really able to get loud while sneaking around, but the first time we were alone together…she surprised me. “You’re working on getting on Santa’s naughty list, aren’t you?”

She smiles wider. “Or getting off.”

“I’ll get you off all right.” I pull her closer. “Santa’s definitely got a nice present for you.”

Now it’s her turn to arch a brow. “Yeah? You’re not elf-ing with me, are you?”

I kiss her, a quick, intimate kiss. “I elf-ing love you.”

She wraps her arms tighter around my neck, grinding her hips against my dick. “I elf-ing love you too, so darn much. Merry Christmas, York.”

“Marry me, Noelle?”

Her eyes widen once she realizes what I’ve just asked her. “Are you serious?”

I nod, unable to keep my eyes off her beautiful face. “Yes. I want you to be my wife. Marry me.”

A smile spreads slowly across her face as her eyes light up like the North star. “Yes, oh my god, York!”

I reach into my jeans pocket, pulling out the box I had planned on showing her later. However, I couldn’t hold the question in any longer. I had to ask her. Because I want her as my fiancée, and then my wife.

I pull out the ring from the little black box, and Noelle sheds a few tears as she watches me. “I love you, Noelle.”

“I love you,” she says as she cups my cheeks, bringing me in for another kiss before I can slip the ring on her finger. “I love you so so much.”

I slide the ring onto her finger, and it’s a perfect fit. Just like her. I discard the box, and stare at the ring sitting on her finger. It’s perfect.

She smiles before kissing me. Our lips fuse together, our tongues dancing together to their own beat. I love this woman.

Noelle.

My body hardens as I position her over my dick. She sinks down onto it, and for the next few minutes we get lost in the feeling of one another. I keep kissing her, unable to get enough of her. Our hands grapple at one another, trying our best to touch everywhere.

I love this woman.

My very own Christmas gift.

My Noelle.

“I’m coming,” she calls out, and it’s like music to my ears. She keeps riding me as I watch her get off. It really is the greatest sight ever.

A few minutes later I’m chasing after her with my own release. “Fuck, you’re mine,” I tell her. “You’re all I want this year for Christmas, and every year after that. Only you.”

As I sit here with Noelle in my arms, looking out at the rink where our story began, I know without a doubt that this is my happily ever after. It’s not about the wins on the ice, or the cheers from the stands—it’s about her. Every moment with her feels like home, like I’ve finally found the place where I belong. With Noelle, the world makes sense in a way it never did before. She’s my person, my partner, my love, and as we head into whatever the future holds, I know I’ll be right where I’m supposed to be. By her side, forever.

Thank you so much for reading Noelle and York’s Christmas story. If you love the holiday romcoms, I’ve got many more for you to choose from. Want to meet Zoe and Graham, York’s cousin?

Check out Faking With Mr. Steele, a fake relationship holiday romcom available now with Kindle Unlimited. CLICK HERE!

Keep reading for the first chapter of Faking With Mr. Steele